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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753792">Bobby McKenzie &amp; MC</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mcmckenzie310/pseuds/Mcmckenzie310'>Mcmckenzie310</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Love Island (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Funny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mcmckenzie310/pseuds/Mcmckenzie310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby McKenzie isn't as pixelated as we all imagined.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bobby McKenzie &amp; Main Character (Love Island)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bobby McKenzie &amp; MC</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Shoutout to you, you know who you are.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The cardboard box was no longer being held together with tape, just by the grace of God and Robert’s long fingers. He prayed he’d make it to his car before the bottom fell out and everything that once resided on his Fusebox Team desk, would be scattered on the floor of parking garage. He barely managed to press the automatic door for his trunk, holding his breath as if it would affect the box’s outcome. He laid the broken box down and felt a sadness creep its way into his heart. Four years of laughs, memories and friends, </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He reminded himself it was for the best, he’d given everything to this company. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Including his likeness to a character. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d needed to create another islander that would round out season 2. Someone that added diversity, humor, and a universal popularity. Quickly, Vanessa volunteered Robert Mcmillan. He thought it was funny at first, until they began following him around with a notepad. Jotting down his silly jokes and watching his mannerisms. It was almost too much as the sketch artist sat in front of his desk for a full week. He remembered when the character designs were placed on his desk. Bobby Mckenzie wasn’t in his likeness, it was his Goddamn spitting image. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bobby Mckenzie</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You guys couldn’t do better than that?” He had asked his boss, Nicole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Robbie, this looks nothing like you.” She retorted dismissively, tossing the drawings back at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Looked nothing like him</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He was a mixed Scot with freckles, a tossle of dreads sat upon his head, his eyes were the same shade of gold and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he was</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a band in uni. However, his chat was way better than Bobby’s lame ass beefcake line, he wasn’t half jamaican, yea he’d never baked a cupcake in his fucking life and his lack of a girlfriend wasn’t because he had a hard time seeing women past friends. He had a hard time seeing women past the obnoxious hours he worked at Fusebox. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t the same team that formed out of uni years ago, it was no longer creative geniuses and fellow, nerdy coders. With the mobile game’s success came lawyers, litigations and a focus on driving in a younger crowd. All of these things crippled the foundation of what made the game great to begin with. He became tired of the shit pay,  the constant workload and being blamed for glitches in the game. He was tired of people in the office touching his nose and shouting ‘boop’, or unbuttoning the top four buttons of his shirt. It was time for him to move on, like a majority of Fusebox’s original team had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drove home, enjoying the light traffic that greeted him. He wasn’t used to leaving HQ whilst the sun was still out. It filled him with an optimistic outlook on the next chapter of his life. His home was in desperate need of sprucing up, he laughed as he imagined embroidered pillows on his sofa. He shook his head, it would take some getting used to. Not living a life surrounded by characters that didn’t exist. Well besides Bobby, Bobby was alive and living in the barest flat in London. Robert kicked his feet up and enjoyed the takeaway he’d grabbed on his way home, idly scrolling through the job boards until his phone rang. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Robert, bruv!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chris, how are you mate?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing great, I actually called because I have a favor I’d like to ask of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robbie put down the styrofoam container of pad thai and adjusted his phone, “Yea pal, for you, of course!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s not for me, it’s a girl at my office.” He began. Chris was an old roommate that helped Robby scrape by when there was no money coming in at Fusebox, he’d looked forward to a day he could return the favor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was chatting with a few girls on the legal team and one of them mentioned an opening at Fusebox?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robby laughed to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>had they already posted his former position</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For programming?” Rob asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No it seems like they’re looking for writers. She’s such a smart girl, I’d hate to hold her back here at my office.” Chris sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are never going to keep any good employees if you find them jobs elsewhere.” Robert joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, for some people it’s interesting. But for others, this is just a job that keeps the lights on. Everyone deserves to follow their passion, Robby.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Robert was all too aware of how true those words were. He knew he still could pull some strings and get Chris’s friend an interview at FB, but he thought of a better idea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Chris, I am not sure if you’ve seen, but the quality of writing at Fusebox isn't the same since Tessa left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Robby, I never followed the game. I am sorry to admit.” Chris chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rob laughed to himself, it would be funny if Chris </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> followed</span>
  <em>
    <span>. No wonder he’d never made a Bobby joke. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well Tess started a publishing company, it’s called Feline. I am sure I could forward her work and get her in for a meet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be great, I will see what work I have of hers. Maybe we can all go for lunch, I’d love to see Tess and Lucy is painfully shy. She might feel more comfortable if I come along.” Chris added. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds great, I will be waiting for the email.” Robby responded.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon was just as uneventful. Robert was beginning to think maybe his employer wasn’t responsible for his lackluster life, maybe he just wasn’t that exciting of a person. He caught up on Netflix shows, texted old friends, and drank without the dread of work in the morning. Like clockwork he was still ready for bed at 11pm. He settled in to his bland tan sheets and closed his eyes, the whiskey nightcap lulling him to sleep. The phone vibrated on the nightstand and he checked the notification through one half opened eye. He unplugged the phone and opened the email his friend had finally sent. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Robert, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here’s a link to Lucy’s work, she was extremely hesitant to share, but once I told her about Feline she gave me permission to. </span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Robert knew Feline was a predominantly woman based, publishing house that geared towards romance and edgier kink novels. Which was surprising because Tess was outwardly a shy and reserved woman. Robby clicked the link and was pleasantly surprised to find under Lucy’s profile was a collection of Love Island the game fanfiction. This made more sense why he’d been contacted to get her in with Fusebox, maybe he’d still run her work by them afterall. He thought to himself. He only knew a thing like fanfiction existed, because of Tess. Never in a million years did he imagine: 1)LITG would have its own fandom 2) Most of them would be about Bobby.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He began reading her first work, Disturbed Like You. Curiosity slowly turned into amusement as the story unfolded. This writer had embodied Bobby in a way Fusebox had failed to, capturing a depth that was actually spot on to himself. Suddenly the fic descended into something that made his cheeks rise in color. He felt intrusive reading these sexual exploits being written about him. He clicked on the tag MC &amp; Bobby Mckenzie and his eyes widened in ahh of the amount of explicit work that had been written around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was uncomfortable with how much he enjoyed reading Lucy’s work. He blushed but felt compelled to read every chapter she posted. He pitied some of her Bobby’s, but he envied the other’s. After hours of reading about her different characters he placed his phone down, needing a cold shower and relief. His mind shuffled through the different main characters and he wondered which was most like Lucy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t concerned with the hour, he texted Tess, lying that he had an author </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>be thrilled to meet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was more excited than Tess could ever be. </span>
</p>
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